The Mousetrap

PHILIP. Now look here, Fogg, have you got the nerve to insinuate that I was lying?

(The LIGHTS dim to BLACK-OUT)

JUSTIN. I’m not insinuating anything. But let me remind you that the picture we now have is built up from remembered conversations.

(The spotlight comes up on Justin down L)

Memory is the only thread that hangs this picture together—it is a fragile thread and uncertain. I suggest one conversation we’ve heard about went quite differently. Let’s suppose it went something like this.

(The spotlight fades and after a moment the LIGHTS come up to reveal the house and terrace as it was sixteen years previously. CAROLINE is seated in the armchair R, and AMYAS is about to open the door up C to go out. Instead he turns towards Caroline)

AMYAS. I’ve told you, Caroline, I don’t want to discuss this.

CAROLINE. You didn’t want a scene until you’d finished your picture. That’s it, isn’t it?

(AMYAS crosses and leans over Caroline)

Oh, I understand you very well.

(AMYAS is about to kiss her)

(She rises quickly and crosses to L) And what you’re doing is monstrous. You’re going to treat this girl the same way as you’ve treated all the others. You were in love with her, but you’re not now. All you want is to string her along so that you can finish that picture.

AMYAS. (smiling) All right, then. That picture matters.

CAROLINE. So does she.

AMYAS. She’ll get over it.

CAROLINE. (partly pleading) Oh, you! You’ve got to tell her. Now—today. You can’t go on like this, it’s too cruel.

AMYAS. (crossing to Caroline) All right, I’ll send her packing. But the picture . . .

CAROLINE. Damn the picture! You and your women. You don’t deserve to live.

AMYAS. Caroline. (He tries to embrace her)

CAROLINE. I mean it. No, don’t touch me. (She crosses down R) It’s too cruel—it’s too cruel.

AMYAS. Caroline!

(CAROLINE exits down R. The LIGHTS dim to black-out. The spotlight comes up on Justin down L)

JUSTIN. Yes, that’s how that conversation went. Caroline pleaded, but not for herself. Philip Blake didn’t hear Amyas say, “I’ll see to her packing”—what he in fact heard was the voice of a dying man struggling to say, “I’ll send her packing.”

(The spotlight fades on Justin. The LIGHTS come up. Everyone is back in the same positions as they were before the BLACK-OUT)

A phrase he’d no doubt used before of other mistresses, but this time he spoke of you—(he turns to Elsa) didn’t he, Lady Melksham? The shock of that conversation was terrific, wasn’t it? And straight away you acted. You’d seen Caroline take that phial of conine the day before. You found it at once when you went upstairs for a pullover. You handled it carefully, filled an eye-dropper from it, came down again, and when Amyas asked you for beer, you poured it into the glass, added the conine, and brought the beer to him. You resumed your pose. You watched him as he drank. Watched him feel the first twinges, the stiffness of the limbs, and the slow paralysis of the speech. You sat there and watched him die. (He gestures to the portrait) That’s the portrait of a woman who watched the man she loved die.

(ELSA rises quickly and stands looking at the portrait)

And the man who painted it didn’t know what was happening to him. But it’s there, you know—in the eyes.

ELSA. (in a hard voice) He deserved to die. (She looks at Justin) You’re a clever man, Mr. Fogg. (She moves to the door up C and opens it) But there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.

(ELSA exits up C. There is a stunned silence, then gradually everyone starts to speak together. CARLA goes on to the terrace and stands below the bench)

PHILIP. There—there must be something we can do.

MEREDITH. I can’t believe it, I simply can’t believe it.

ANGELA. (rising) It stares one in the face—how blind we’ve been.

PHILIP. What can we do, Fogg—what the hell can we do?

JUSTIN. In law, I’m afraid, nothing.